Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

pshaw

they sow

 

tryst, fight their woes with burgundy
bleach their teeth in lies
romanticize their plight
and fantasize in yellow

 

hyacinths, basking under an indifferent sun
beached on a grassy knoll
the sun will take its toll
while the pull of the promise precedes

 

this, an isolated chastised moment
a finger wagging sharp
between two eyebrows barred
and scarred, from raising at another

 

bliss, it's neither here no there
but lies in shoulderblades
a soft skin for a stage
a play, put on by fingers

 

indeterminate, so it's not needed
so the deep sky doesn't fall
down so hard at night and call
pshaw, you were soiled ten degrees

 

ago.






Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback